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Just Being There

By Deepa Ganachari '04

I have been doing fieldwork for the past 11 months. Traveling back and forth to a small village called Bhimashankar, situated in the midst of many hills, a few times each week. Bhimashankar is the site of the famous Bhimashankar temple, built on the site of a naturally occurring Shivaling, the symbol of Lord Shiva. It is the site of one of only twelve such Shivalings in India, and therefore is a major attraction of the region. People travel from far away to visit the temple. Despite this, Bhimashankar remains a small village. Its barely 500 inhabitants live in a mixture of mud and stone structures that are illegally constructed around the temple. Many have migrated from even smaller and more remote villages in the surrounding hills. Most families own small stalls that sell prasaad, food or knick-knacks. Most stalls are operated by the adolescent girls in the family.

I’ve met most, if not all, of the adolescent girls living there. All were eager to join the adolescent girls group I was there to create. At first there were many, almost twenty-five, girls. They named the group “the Kiran Bedi group” after a well-known female police officer and role model. The initial positive response was overwhelming. I could barely speak Marathi, let alone handle 20-plus adolescent girls who spoke only Marathi. But I had a Marathi-speaking assistant and the girls’ attendance was steady, leading me to believe that we were off to a good start. I continued to regularly make trips to meet with the girls and build relationships with them.

Along the way, my assistants changed many times, as they each quit in-turn, and eventually, I was traveling the 1½-hour journey alone. But my Marathi had rapidly improved and I could conduct sessions by myself. So I kept going back, and as the months progressed, I became friends with all the girls and learned about their lives and families.

One day in February, I made my regular trip to Bhimashankar, preparing to hold another meeting with the group. As I got off the bus and made my way to the village, I instantly noticed the change that had come over the village. It looked like a hurricane had swept through and destroyed nearly everything in its path. Homes, shops, and restaurants were reduced to rubble. A villager recognized me and approached me to explain what had happened. Government officials had come with bulldozers and ordered that most of the buildings razed. The villager explained that the structures had been illegally constructed on government property that was designated to be a wildlife reserve. The land had gone unchecked for more than 20 years, during which time people settled into the village, built homes, and earned their livelihoods. This recent destruction left everyone in shock, and many families were forced to return to the villages from which they came so many years before.

I started walking through the village, looking for girls I knew. I found some of them, with their families, digging through the piles of stone, bricks, and mud to which their homes had been reduced. Some were crying, others were silent. I held their hands as we stood in silence, overwhelmed with the destruction that surrounded us. A few of them told me about how their families had been living amongst the rubble for the past few days. The families of many were leaving. I watched as more than 15 girls, my friends and the majority of my group, slowly left Bhimashankar. I said goodbye to many of my newfound friends, and the majority of my girls’ group. But a handful of girls remained, and I returned to continue the group’s meetings with these girls.

Along the way, the group faced further obstacles such as dropout, child marriage, and migration. But I kept going back, hoping that perhaps my consistency was somehow important in their lives. Perhaps that is what kept me sane throughout some of the tough times over the past year: knowing that I would return, no matter what, to my village and my girls. This week, I said my last goodbye, as I prepared to leave to return to the US. And for the first time in 11 months, I won’t be going back.

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